The Triumph of Katie Byrne (9 page)

London – Yorkshire, 1999

‘Friendship is Love without his wings.’

L
ORD
B
YRON

‘…the most essential thing for happiness is the gift of friendship.’

S
IR
W
ILLIAM
O
SLER

The young woman who hurried down the Haymarket on a cool Wednesday evening in October had no idea of the swathe she cut as she glided along. But more than one head, male and female, turned to look at her as she headed towards the Theatre Royal.

She was tall, lithe, very slender, and striking in her long, black wool cape worn over a tailored black trouser suit. The only touches of colour were her startlingly blue eyes in her pale, finely-boned face, and her mass of fiery auburn hair that framed that face in an aureole.

Once she reached the theatre, she went straight up to the box office and stood in line. ‘Katie Byrne,’ she said to the man behind the window, when it was her turn, and after a shuffle of envelopes he passed over her ticket.

A moment later she was being ushered down the aisle to a seat in the centre of the theatre, eight rows up from the stage. It was one of the best seats in the house, as she was well aware.

As always when she entered a theatre, Katie found
herself filling with excitement, experiencing a sense of great expectation. Every nerve in her body seemed to tingle as she sat there gazing at the red velvet curtain, eager for the moment when it would rise and she would be captured by the unfolding drama, swept away into another world.

But quite aside from her own feelings, there was an undercurrent of anticipation in the theatre tonight, and Katie picked up on it at once. The play was called
Charlotte and Her Sisters
, and it had opened two months ago to rave reviews. It was an immediate sell-out, a huge hit, one guaranteed to run for months, indeed years.

Much had been written about the play and the playwright, a young woman no one had ever heard of before, who had penned the play in her spare time. Her name was Jenny Hargreaves, and she came from Harrogate, where she worked as a feature writer on a local county magazine.

The play she had written was about the Brontë sisters, the nineteenth-century novelists and poets, who had lived in Haworth, a village on the windswept Yorkshire moors, and had produced such extraordinary works as
Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights
, and
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.

Opening the programme she was holding, Katie scanned the details of the different acts, and then the cast list. Three very famous and talented British actresses were playing the roles of Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë,
and she could hardly wait to see their performances. She was fully ready and willing to experience the ‘suspension of disbelief’. I
will
believe every word, Katie said to herself, as she inevitably did when she came to see a play. I
will
believe that it’s really happening, that I’m witnessing real life being played out before my eyes.

Suddenly, the flurry of movement, of people edging along rows of seats already filled, and finally settling in their own seats, came to a stop. Silence filled the theatre. The lights dimmed. The curtain went up. And Katie, her hands clasped together, focused all of her attention on the stage.

Instantly, she was pulled into the drama, caught up in the lives of the three sisters, their talented yet decadent brother, Branwell, and their pious father, the Reverend Patrick Brontë, vicar of Haworth Parish in the West Riding of Yorkshire.

And there she sat, witnessing life in the parsonage on the bleak moors, where the cemetery edged up to the windows, and all the trees leaned the same way because the wind never stopped blowing in one direction. The acting was superb. The three women gave of themselves unstintingly, and they convinced her that they
were
the Brontë sisters. Katie was mesmerized by their performances, in awe.

In the interval, Katie sat perfectly still in her seat, didn’t bother to go out and stretch her legs, not wanting to break the spell, lose the magic that had been created
on stage and with such potency. She could hardly wait for the next act to begin, and when it did she was once again held spellbound by the playwright’s words, the acting, the stage sets and the costumes, as was everyone else in the audience.

Katie did not want the play to end.

As she trooped out behind the other theatregoers, she could only marvel at the miracles that had been wrought on that stage tonight. She knew she had seen something truly remarkable, and it had moved and touched her beyond measure. And that’s what it was all about, wasn’t it?

Once she left the theatre and went out into the street, Katie looked around for the chauffeur she had been told would be waiting for her, to drive her to the restaurant for dinner.

Katie hurried towards him where he was waiting at the kerb, next to the Dawson car.

‘Hello, Joe,’ she said, smiling, remembering his courtesy the last time he had driven her to meet Melanie Dawson.

He smiled back, brought a hand to his cap. ‘Good evening, Miss Byrne.’ He opened the back door of the car for her and she got inside. ‘It’s the Ivy tonight,’ he told her as he closed the door.

Katie sat back, relaxing, still thinking about the performances as the car pulled away towards Soho and the Ivy. She was so glad Melanie had offered to get
her a ticket for this very hot play, but then Melanie had always shown her great kindness. They had been friends for four years, and Katie was flattered that a woman so highly thought of, so important in the theatre, so chic, sophisticated and successful would want to be her friend. She looked forward to seeing her for dinner, and couldn’t wait to tell her what she thought of the play. Melanie always asked her opinion, and was interested in what she had to say about most things, not only the theatre.

Melanie Dawson spotted Katie being escorted through the famous show business restaurant, and stood up to greet her as she came to a standstill. The two women hugged, then sat down, and Melanie exclaimed, ‘You look marvellous, Katie. London certainly does agree with you. But then I said that the last time Harry and I were here.’

Katie laughed, nodded. ‘I guess it does, and I’ve been enjoying my classes at RADA. How’s Harry?’

‘He’s great and he sends his best. Stuck in New York at the moment. He’s got problems with a play. But knowing Harry, he’ll solve them.’ Melanie motioned to a waiter, looked at Katie and asked, ‘What would you like to drink?’

Katie shook her head. ‘You know I don’t really drink. But tonight I’ll have a glass of champagne, please. That’s light enough.’

‘Let’s have a bottle of Veuve Clicquot,’ Melanie said to the waiter, thanked him, and then turned back to Katie. ‘And how did you enjoy the play?’

‘I loved it. Thanks so much for arranging the ticket, Melanie. It was so kind of you to think of me.’ She leaned across the table, and went on, ‘I was very moved at times, and that’s what the theatre’s all about, having your emotions engaged, being touched, feeling what the characters are feeling, empathizing with them, living through their tragedies and heartbreaks and happier moments. And I thought the acting was superb. It’s a marvellous cast.’

‘I couldn’t have said it better, but then you’ve always been a clever girl, Katie.’

Katie smiled, simply accepted the compliment in silence. She could not help thinking how smart Melanie looked tonight, in her dark-grey silk suit, obviously an expensive designer number, and her grey South Sea pearl earrings. She was a striking woman, with her well-shaped, stylish short brown hair and deep brown eyes. Katie thought she had great flair in the way she dressed, and everything she did, in fact.

The waiter was back in a jiffy with an ice bucket filled with ice, and the bottle of champagne, which he proceeded to pour.

A moment later the two women were clinking glasses, toasting each other. Once they had taken a sip of the wine, and put their glasses down, Melanie studied Katie
for a moment, then asked, ‘What did you think of Branwell?’

Katie shook her head slowly. ‘I couldn’t believe how utterly modern he was, in a sense…a drunk, a gambler, a drug addict, and a wastrel, especially of his talent. I never knew much about the Brontës and their personal lives, I only knew about their work, but the whole play was gripping, really fascinating. And Jonathan Rhyne is wonderful in that role. But they all are.’

‘I agree, and I agree about the play. It is drama at its very, very best. However, of all of them,
my
favourite character is Emily, perhaps because I’ve always loved
Wuthering Heights.
’

‘Yes, Emily is very interesting, and somewhat…’ Katie paused, then bit her lip. ‘I was going to say that she seems to be so mysterious in the play, and yet I’m not sure if I mean
that
exactly.’

‘I hope you do, because she was a very mysterious person in real life, so reluctant to have anything she wrote published, guarding her privacy and her innermost being, her soul, in a way. A free spirit, mystical, in a certain sense, and perhaps the one Brontë who deserves the accolade of greatness. For what it’s worth, I believe Emily Brontë was one of the great geniuses of English literature.’

‘It’s certainly made me want to read some of their books again,’ Katie exclaimed, and stopped when a man came to a standstill at their table.

Melanie cried, ‘Chris! How are you?’

The man grinned, and replied, ‘I’m good, Mel, and you?’

‘Couldn’t be better. Chris, I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Katie Byrne. Katie, this is Christopher Plummer, as I know I don’t need to tell you.’

The actor smiled at her, and she smiled back, and gave him her hand, which he shook.

Melanie said, ‘Any chance of lunch or dinner, Chris? How long are you here for?’

‘A couple of days. Give me a call. Maybe we can get together.’

He smiled at them both and took his leave, and Katie said, ‘Phew! What a treat! I never thought I’d meet Christopher Plummer, not in a million years. He’s one of my favourite actors.’

‘He’s just the greatest, in my opinion.’ Melanie picked up the menus, and handed one to Katie. ‘I don’t know what you feel like, but I’m having the fried fish and chips with mushy peas. It’s awfully naughty, they’re so fattening, but I can never resist them when I’m here.’

‘I’ll have the same.’ Katie laughed. ‘I can’t resist them either, not that
I
come
here
very much.’

‘It’s a national dish, and I can understand why.’

After the waiter reappeared and took their order, he topped up their glasses, and hurried off.

Melanie said, ‘How long are you intending to stay in London, Katie?’

‘I’m not sure.’ She shrugged lightly. ‘That’s a silly answer, because I am sure, well, to a certain extent, anyway. My parents are going to Ireland in November, and then they’re coming to London for Thanksgiving. My brother Fin’s at Oxford University, I think I told you that. He’s the brainy one in the family. So, we’ll all be here together…well, Niall, my elder brother, is not coming, as far as I know. But I guess he could surprise us. In any event, I have classes to finish at RADA, which will take me through until early December, and I know my parents are going to want me to go back to Connecticut for Christmas. I’m not certain of what I’ll do in the new year, probably trot back to London. I do love it here.’

‘Who doesn’t,’ Melanie agreed. Clearing her throat, she took a sip of champagne, and continued, ‘I bought the play, Katie.’

Katie frowned. ‘What play?’

Melanie chuckled.
‘What play
? you ask. The one I wanted you to see tonight.
Charlotte and Her Sisters.
’

‘You did!’ Katie was completely taken aback and unable to conceal her surprise.

Melanie nodded. ‘I made a deal for a firm option long before it opened, and a week ago I purchased the rights for the States from the British producer. I also bought the movie rights.’

‘Congratulations! Isn’t Harry thrilled?’

‘Yes, he is.
For me.
I’m producing this one myself. I’m
opening it on Broadway sometime next year. I suppose you could say it’s my contribution to the year of the Millennium.’

Katie gave her a warm smile. ‘I know how much you’ve wanted to find something really dramatic. Now you have.’

The waiter arrived with their dinner; while they ate, the two of them continued to chat about London, acquaintances they had in common, the theatre in general. Once their plates had been cleared away and they were sipping camomile tea, Melanie startled Katie when she said, ‘I want to have a serious talk with you about something.’

‘Yes, what is it?’ Katie asked, staring at the producer intently, wondering what she could possibly have on her mind.

‘I told you I’m bringing the Brontë play to Broadway. I want you to play the part of Emily. That’s what this is all about tonight, Katie. I’m offering you the second lead. That’s why I wanted you to see the play. I wasn’t just giving you a treat.’

Stunned, Katie sat gaping at her, rendered totally speechless.

‘Well, say something, Katie. Yes, no, maybe?’

Taking a deep breath, Katie said, ‘Melanie, how wonderful of you, what a fabulous offer.’

‘So you’re accepting it,’ Melanie exclaimed, beaming at her, obviously thrilled.

‘Not exactly,’ Katie began and paused, shaking her head, grimacing. ‘I think I’d like to do the play, but can I sleep on it, at least? I don’t want to say yes, and then change my mind.’

Melanie Dawson sighed heavily. ‘Like you did the last time? I’m not sure why you keep turning down the parts I offer you, but if you pass on Emily Brontë this will be the third time. Then I will really begin to wonder if you’re serious about your acting career.’

‘You know I am! Those other two parts weren’t right for me, Melanie, and you know they weren’t. And Harry agreed with me. I was too old for the girl in
Plainspeaking
, and I really didn’t like the role in the musical. Harry was of the same mind, and besides, you know very well I’m not a good singer.’

‘There was hardly any singing in that particular part, and you could have done a Rex Harrison and talked your way through the songs. But look, you’re avoiding the issue. Don’t you want a part in a Broadway show, Katie?’

‘Naturally, I do. It’s my dream, and it always has been. But I want it to be the right part. I’m an American, Melanie, and Emily Brontë was English, and I’m not so sure I can get it right. Also, there are other considerations.’